


We need to work on your pick up lines

by fredric_modlic



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No supernatural, F/F, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:52:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8238241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredric_modlic/pseuds/fredric_modlic
Summary: Inspired by an AU prompt:“I met you last night when you were drunkenly patting my dog in my backyard at 3 in the morning and when i asked you what the hell you were doing you slurred something about dogs being great and then you threw up on my feet and then fifteen minutes later you were passed out on my couch so that’s why you’re here right now also what the fuck is your name and why were you patting a dog in a stranger’s backyard in the middle of the night” It got a little out of hand, because my writing is loquacious...but fresh off of the movie announcement and in prep for the drop of Act III - enjoy the fluff!!





	

"I know buddy! I agree. I mean ya can't just stick your tongue down someone's throat. Am I right?" 

Carmilla rolled over and opened a bleary eye and directed it toward the clock on her nightstand. 3:14am : SUN. 

Right...

She pressed the heel of her palms to her eyes and listened. 

"Gosh, I'm so glad I met you. You're such a good listener." The voice echoed once more through the yard and into her house.

Fuck sake. Second time in the four months since she had moved in; some young kids had found their way into her backyard. Again. For the love of God. 

She swung her feet out of bed and onto the chilled wooden floor, cursing ever having moved into an area next to the college. 

She padded quietly through the house and towards the kitchen door, listening to the inane babble of a young female, "what do you think of the stars out tonight, buddy? So clear and so cool. Just like pepperoni strewn across pizza - numerous and delicious!" 

Without turning any lights on, Carmilla pulled up her stealth-like walk at the back door and looked down the back porch steps to the small patch of grass in her backyard. 

There was the girl, supine on the grass, with Carmilla's dog lying next to her, head resting on her belly. 

What the fresh fucking hell was this?

"Anyway and I mean, it's not like I don't like Elsie. I just don't like her that way. So maybe if I got asked that'd be ok? We could have a conversation, ya know?"

Carmilla shifted her weight slightly at the door and the wood creaked beneath her feet. Bagheera's head popped up and looked back up the stairs towards her. 

The girl seemed to be alone. And Bagheera seemed to be ok with whatever was going on out there. Carmilla flicked on the porch lights and grabbed the baseball bat - just in case - before opening the back door.

Bagheera leapt to his feet and trotted up the back steps to meet Carmilla where she stood at the bannister. She reached over to scruff his ears, "some guard dog you are."

He yawned apathetically before curling up next to her feet, all 55 pounds of him. Real ferocious.

The girl for her part, still alone, sprawled out on the grass hadn't moved. In fact, she now appeared to be asleep. 

"You ok down there?" 

Eyes still closed, the young woman wiped her nose with the back of her hand, "yah, I'm good guys - I'll come in soon. Just getting some air," she waved her hand dismissively. 

Half a second later, a hand with her pointer finger straight thrust into the air, "just quickly though, when did we get a dog?" 

Carmilla chuckled to herself, dropping the bat by the back door and making her way down the stairs. Bagheera followed close behind just as he always did. She squatted down next to the recumbent young woman. 

Sandy blonde hair was covering part of her face, and there was distinct grass and mud smear on her cheek. And a rather large tear in the side of her blouse. She didn't appear to be harmed otherwise and was breathing quite loudly, easing Carmilla's 3am jitters a little further.

"Well - dearest - I got Bagheera about 4 years ago. So... A little while now, "she smirked at the girl below her struggling to find some kind of consciousness. Bagheera curled around her feet, with his nose coming to rest on the girl's hip. "Useless," Carmilla grumbled, scratching his back with affection.

The girl popped an eye open and tried to focus on the face looming over her. The constellations swam in the sky above her, and a swell of dark curls around a porcelain face swayed with it. "Wow," the girl breathed out, "Who are you?" 

"I could ask you the same question," Carmilla smiled and brushed the girls hair off her face, it was likely not helping her already impeded vision. "I'm Carmilla. And your name, cupcake?" 

The girls eyes opened again and she held Carmilla's eyes with a glazed expression, a wide grin spreading across her face, "Carmilla, niiice," she drew the word out in a sleazy fashion. She held out one hand in the air and the other came up suddenly to slap it, "high five!" She laughed uproariously.

Her arms collapsed haphazardly on her own stomach, "ugh - so not a good plan, too much beer in there. Beer in the belly," she smoothed her stomach softly this time. 

She lifted a finger, accusing as it gesticulated, "And you're not mu sigma, so where am I exactly?"

Carmilla smirked, folding the girls hand down to her chest before one of the three of them lost an eye, "no, not mu sigma. You're about 2 miles from campus, Creampuff." She glanced around "how did you get in here anyway?" The question was rhetorical; she couldn't see any open gates.

"Oh you know," the girl swooped her hand like a wave, "just an allyooop, over the fence"

Carmilla's eyes shot to the back fence which backed onto an open lot, her mouth agape, "it's 8 feet tall!" She whispered incredulously. How on earth?

"You just gotta give it a good running start, ya know?" The girl smiled up at her proudly. "C'mon I'll show you!" She made to get up, before Carmilla jumped up beside her and caught the girls suddenly swinging center of gravity.

"I don't think so, sweetie. C'mon lets go inside. My feet are getting cold." She wiggled her toes in the dewy grass, "I'll put some shoes on and take you home."

"What?! You're no fun! If you don't learn how to climb your back fence...how will you ever learn to climb your back fence?" 

Carmilla raised a quizzical eyebrow, drawling, "So wise, thank you for that. Maybe you can show me another time, kay? Maybe a time when if I get injured there'll be someone around, not intoxicated and capable of taking me to hospital."

The girl snorted, "I'm capable! Always. Oh my goodness, hey buddy!" She called out to Bagheera trotting ahead, he rounded back to nuzzle his head into the girl's lax hand. "Aren't dogs the best? Have you met buddy here before?" She looked up at Carmilla and grinned. 

Carmilla chuckled, "few times cupcake, he is my dog."

"Such a great dog. Great listener," her exaggerated wink at Carmilla indicated this was a tremendous joke. 

"Ha," Carmilla forced out a fake laugh and a pained smile.

"Say, you're a great listener too," with the hand that wasn't draped across Carmilla's shoulder, she grabbed the taller girls hip. "And so pretty. You're a pretty, great listener. Ha!" She guffawed so hard she stumbled. "I'm just full of them tonight." 

"You're full of something."

She looked up the back steps, and to the door Bagheera was now waiting patiently in front of. Fifteen steps; she could do this. She readjusted the girl's weight on her hip and shoulders, right as her head lolled forward. And she emptied the contents of her stomach onto Carmilla's pajamas.

Right. Good.

"Oh no," the young woman mumbled, hair falling in her face, "oh crap. Oh darn. Oh no." She clutched at her stomach. 

With any coordination she could spare from the semi-human form hanging onto her, Carmilla gathered the girl's hair, and held it back from her face. "Calm down there, cupcake, just let it out." She steered the girl towards the nearest flower bed, just as she leaned forward and hurled again.

"It's alright," Carmilla soothed.

The girl gripped Carmilla's forearm with one hand and her own knee with the other, gulping air. "Oh God. Thank you. You are my knight," she paused for a few deep breaths, "in count snackula pajamas."

Carmilla chuckled, "really? Is this the time you want to make fun of my pajama pants? Right after you throw up on them? I am literally holding you up over your last spew spot." She rubbed the girls shoulder. 

"When else will I have the chance to woo you with my witticisms and charm? It's now or never, right?" The girl stood up straighter, back to clutching at her stomach again.

"I've never met someone who could use the word witticisms when this smashed; nice work, cupcake. Also, still not sure how making fun of my pajamas will help you 'woo' me?" 

The girl grinned a little, "my efforts thus far may not get me into your pants, but you'll definitely be getting out of them in a minute. Am I right?" She gave an awkward wink. With both eyes. 

Carmilla chuckled, "you are incorrigible, Casanova." She pulled the girl a little higher and redistributed her weight, "now, you feeling better with that out of your system? Want to go up and get cleaned up and into bed? Your bed?" 

The girl just nodded, with baleful eyes and Carmilla slowly walked them up the steps and into the house. She dropped the girl on the couch, instructed her to wait, and think really hard about what her address was. "Mu sigma! Mu sigma! That's all I got," was the only response thus far, on repeat.

With haste she changed into another pair of pajama pants and pulled on a sweater. 

By the time she made it back out to the couch, less than two minutes later, the young woman was sprawled out on her back mouth wide open and legs at odd angles on the couch. 

Oh. Come on. 

"Sweetie?" Carmilla tapped the girl's jaw lightly, "you remember where you live yet? Casanova?" She picked the girls hand up and let it drop limply. Nothing. The girl snorted loudly at that moment and rolled her face into the back of the couch. "You have got to be kidding me." At least she was breathing.

Figures. She glanced at the clock again; nearly 4am.

She pulled a bucket out of the laundry cupboard, filled a bottle with water and put some Tylenol on the coffee table. Removing the girl's shoes, she replaced the warmth lost with a blanket from the back of the couch. 

She studied the girls face for a moment, it was finally calm and quiet.

She pulled up a blanket on the opposite armchair and curled up for some rest. The sound of another persons breathing (and occasional snores) providing a strangely comforting white noise.

*****

The 6am sun had a particularly special knack of streaming through the kitchen window and onto Carmilla's beloved leather chair. So said the slight sun discoloration of the black leather. But more importantly, so said the sun light burning Carmilla's eyes where she napped right now. 

"Fuck sake," she rolled out of the chair and stood, pulling the blanket around her shoulders. 

Even before she had to rub her bleary eyes, she could tell the long couch opposite the arm chair was now empty. Blanket folded neatly and a note scribbled on a scrap of paper sat on top of it. 

"Dear kind stranger, 

I am so sorry for clearly having caused an imposition on you last night. Thank you for taking me in and letting me rest. The throbbing in my head suggests I'm going to spend most of my day resting. I know that this will not be sufficient for your generosity and patience with me last night, but I hope this news is of at least some recompense.

I'm sorry for not waking you to thank you in person; I didn't have the guts or the heart. But I do truly owe you; my drunk alter ego is not my friend and can be lippy. 

If I ever work out how I got here, and if I ever recover from dying of shame, I will come and thank you in person. 

Till then - thank you,  
Your friendly neighborhood night irritator

P.S. I'm fairly sure that I would've made a pass at you at some point, so I apologize for that too." 

Carmilla's jaw was slack. The girls message a far cry from the linguistic skills she was displaying the previous night. Which wasn't saying much given the nonsense she had been talking and the amount of alcohol she had clearly imbibed.

She smoothed a thumb over the crinkled paper. "Fairly sure that I would've...."

Carmilla chuckled, gently folded the page in half and slid it into the draw under the coffee table. 

Dropping onto the long couch, she swung her feet onto the sofa, pulled the blankets tighter and drifted off to sleep, ensconced by a lingering warmth and the scent of honey.

*****

Friday nights were Carmilla's favourite thing. In her experience, beer tasted best on Fridays. The blankets also felt softer and late night television consisted solely of 1960s slasher movies. Just a few of her favourite things; she didn't need to make any plans further to that, despite protests from her sister that, "she ought to enjoy styrian offerings." 

Carmilla was stretched out on the long couch, blankets bunched up to her nose, causing her glasses to fog up.

On her television, the suspense was building as the blade of the murderer loomed into frame and down a dark hallway. The violins rose as the assailants quiet footsteps creaked a wooden panel. Hand on the door knob, it turned... Right as there was... A giant scuffle and crash in Carmilla's backyard. 

Her heart hammered as she jammed the mute button on the television remote and leapt from the couch. She rushed through the dark shadows of the house before finding herself gazing upon a familiar site in the backyard. A small form with long dirty blonde hair, rolling out of the flower bed and struggling to her feet.

"Fuck shit, motherfucking ow!"

Carmilla's heart rate immediately eased, and she was left with just the residual echo of built up pressure rattling through her ears. She admonished her own nerves with a chuckle and opened the door onto the deck. Bagheera rushed down the stairs and sat patiently four feet from the young woman, waiting for her to get up.

"Casanova. You again? You found your way back, I see." 

The girl was brushing down her jeans, "I'm like a Romeo homing beacon," she finished dusting down and with one hand enthusiastically greeting Bagheera, she used the other to throw a straight line from the bridge of her nose to where Carmilla stood, emulating a tractor beam. "I just follow my heartb..." For the first time that evening, her eyes finally landed on the brunette, and her mouth fell agape. "Oh man! You wear glasses??" She threw her head back in exasperation, "come on!" She whispered the last part and covered her face with her hands.

Carmilla sniggered and pulled up the sleeve of her sweatshirt to spy the time, "smooth, Sundance. And here I was thinking you wouldn't remember me. I must say, I am more than surprised by your timeliness; it's barely even midnight. If you'd waited a couple more hours, I'd have been asleep and you could've thrown pebbles at my window. Offered up some truly tragic prose, I'm most responsive when I'm roused at 2am, as you may recall." 

"Linguistically, the prose would be far worse at 2am, just saying."

"Look, Hemmingway never wrote sober and his works are classics. Your sleep deprived efforts would be no different I'm sure." Carmilla folded her forearms and rested against the balustrade. 

The girl straightened the small knapsack on her back and walked to the bottom of the stairs, resting against the bottom post. "Well, next time I'll work on that, if that's your hearts desire; terrible prose at 2am." A sobriety appeared on the girls face as a shy smile lit her up. 

"Next time, huh?" Carmilla goaded her, "so tell me, friendly neighborhood night irritator, what brings you here? Didn't expect to see you, if I'm honest."

The girl propped her chin up in her palm, "well I've spent all week feeling a bit ashamed of my behavior. And since we're being honest, I've only gotten up the courage to come back after a couple of beers, which is counterintuitive to the whole apologizing thing, I know and now I'm standing here in front of you thinking that was a terrible idea, but I also stole beer from the party," she swung a small knapsack of her back and held it out as an offering, "hoping that maybe we could share a few and you could see I'm not just someone who throws up on your flower bed and then falls asleep on your couch." 

Carmilla smirked, "And hits on me." 

"What?" The look on the girls face was horrified.

"You forgot the part about hitting on me." 

"Oh God, I actually? ... I'm so sorry. It's never pretty and it's never subtle, ugh - I'm sorry." 

Carmilla raised her hands as she walked down the stairs, "hey hey hey, Creampuff, relax!" She stopped five steps short, giving the recoiling girl her space. "It's okay, it's not every day a girl throws up on your count snackula pyjamas and then chats you up." 

The girl groaned, burying her eyes in an empty palm. 

All concept of self preservation fell away and Carmilla traversed the last steps, tugging the knapsack from the girls hand, "c'mon cupcake, you owe me a beer. Come upstairs, try not to throw up on anything this time!" She smirked, before whistling briefly. Bagheera tore his eyes away from the girl and obediently followed. His tail thwacked the girl as he passed, pulling her from her dismay. 

The young woman's eyes followed one set of furry hindquarters and one delightful rear end climb the stairs. Breathing deep, she roughed her palms down her jeans again. "You can do this," and she followed them both up.

***** 

The only light in the open living area was the erratically pulsing light from the muted television, still playing black and white horror movies.

"So," Carmilla flicked the lid off a beer bottle with a teaspoon before handing it to the girl. "When do I get a name?"

The girl, slack jawed, eyes entrained on the beer bottle lid, goldfished a few times, "ah, mmhm, yeah, my name. No; I have to keep some secrets right, how else will I maintain my air of mystery?" The air of mystery was quickly chased away by the crinkle of the girl's forehead and a few disappointed mutterings under her breath, in a near on silent disapproval of her lack of coolness.

"Hey," Carmilla's hand flew up in mock offense, "I'm not the one who keeps showing up here, quite literally trespassing on my property, sweetheart. I'm just trying to be friendly toward my regular visitor."

Laura grabbed the bottle and hissed. She inspected her right palm and noticed a graze about an inch long. 

"You alright, sweetie?"

The girl blushed, "yeah I just," she held her palm up to show Carmilla, before taking a closer look herself, "I've just grazed it."

Carmilla made no sound, but placed her bottle  
down and padded across the kitchen floor, down the hall. The girl gawped as she walked away, and worked quickly to rearrange her features as Carmilla reappeared, a red zipped up first aid kit in hand. 

"C'mon Creampuff," she nodded at the vacant breakfast bar stool.

She sat and folded her hands in her lap. "Hand up here," Carmilla demanded, tapping the kitchen counter. She flicked on the kitchen light. Tenderly she spread the girl's fingers with her left hand to get a clear look. The girl blushed an awful shade of red as dark soft curls brushed her forearm and she began gnawing gently on her bottom lip. Carmilla looked up from her bowed position, to catch the girl's eyes, "this is bad, it may get septic. They'll likely amputate in a couple days. Just fair warning, okay?"

"Ha ha," the young woman pretended to laugh, when in reality the bottom of her stomach was somewhere by her toes and her heart was pounding so loudly she barely knew anyone was cracking a joke. 

At that moment, Carmilla ripped the packet of an alcohol swab with her teeth and began wiping it across the graze. 

The girl hissed loudly, again. "Motherfah..."

"Oh yeah, this might sting," she quirked a playful eyebrow and continued to brush the swab in one direction a few more times. She then lifted it to inspect. Carmilla blew a gentle stream of air across the girl's palm, watching the alcohol evaporate. For her part, the girl shamefully watched goosebumps appear, traversing the length of her arm. 

She squirmed uncomfortably under Carmilla's ministrations, clearing her throat to abate it, "Why is there only one bar stool?" Excellent misdirection.

She grabbed the antiseptic without letting go of the girl's hand, gently dabbing some onto the graze, "You ask a lot of personal questions for someone who won't tell me their name." 

"A question about a bar stool is personal?" the girl cocked her head to the side like a confused puppy.

"Touche," Carmilla smirked. She peeled the cover off a large plaster and applied it. With a final grasp of the injured appendage between her palms, she squeezed ever so softly, "now keep it clean and dry. Lest it fall off after my amazing first aid skills." She grabbed the girls beer and handed it back to her. 

The young woman flexed her fingers around the bottle, "thank you," she cleared her throat and felt another blush creep across her cheek as the woman kept gazing at her. "And thank you," she tipped her beer toward Camilla, "for not turning away the person who shows up uninvited in your backyard." 

"It's not something I typically make a habit of," Carmilla smirked, "you're the first one I've invited in." She lent her elbows on the counter.

"Wait. There have been others?" 

Carmilla gave a nonchalant shrug, "a few."

"Wait! Who?!"

Carmilla laughed, "don't worry Creampuff. You're my favourite thus far". 

"No, but really. Other students? From the college?"

Carmilla shrugged again, surreptitiously enjoying the game of intrigue. She slid away from the kitchen counter and settled into the couch, cross legged and facing the length. She gestured at the vacant spot in front of her, "you can join me, I promise I don't bite." 

The girl's blush spread to the tips of her ears. Perhaps she was going to turn a permanent shade of suitably-embarrassed. She dipped her head to hide her cheeks and hurriedly dropped into the couch, mirroring Carmilla's position. 

Carmilla turned off the television and set down the remote in place of a beer. "Clearly there are things you want to know, Creampuff, and I just want to know your name. So why don't we work up to that? We can take turns if you like." 

"Oh, like twenty one questions?" 

Carmilla smirked as she took a lazy swig from the bottle, releasing it with a satisfied pop, "sure, just like twenty one questions". 

The girl pointed at her chest, asking the silent question of who could go first. Carmilla nodded. 

She cleared her throat, as her fingers worried the label of her bottle, "so - erm - what's your name again?"

"Ha - you don't remember?" 

The young woman figeted, and furrowed her brow, "not exactly." 

"Well I guess I shouldn't be surprised, you were in a fairly compromised position last Saturday..."

"It was a very interesting night for me," self deprecation rolled off the girls sagging shoulders. 

Carmilla shrugged, "it happens, however, I'm not sure I should answer till I know your name." She watched the girls smile pick up where it left off and a cheeky gleam enter her eyes.

"I don't think those are the rules of the game."

"But it's not a game, cupcake." 

"If you don't answer though, I get another question." 

Carmilla nodded in acquiescence.

"Why do you only have one breakfast bar stool?" 

Dark brows rose to nearly meet her hairline, "geez you don't pull any punches do you?" She huffed out a breath, "I only need one. It's just me Creampuff, no girlfriend, no family to visit, no siblings. Just me in Styria." 

"But what.." 

Carmilla held up one hand to interrupt the girl, "you gotta share, miss. It's my turn." 

The girl's hazel eyes sparkled and didn't blink as she nodded. 

"I suppose asking you your name would be pointless?" 

The girl nodded again. 

"Okay, so, who's Elsie?" 

Several strangled noises made their way out of her throat, "Weh-ah-yeah, Elsie's just a girl .... at college." She nodded for affirmation.

"If you answer, you have to answer truthfully." 

Huffing loudly, the young woman continued, "she's just a girl at college. She wants more from me. Erm - more than I can give her." 

"Can give? Or want to give?"

The girl held up a single handed and smirked, "sharesies, it's my turn. I'll give you an easy one; you like horror movies, huh?" 

"Yeah, I mean I enjoy looking at the cues used in building suspense and how they've evolved over time. I think we've become desensitized so the ploys are more explosive and inflammatory now, rather than just good production. Also - a little heart starter is always fun." 

"I could think of so many better ways to start your heart," she whispered before clearing her throat, "horror just isn't for me I mean." 

Carmilla smiled, "it's not for everyone, I guess. So, now, tell me what happened last weekend." 

"Man, I gave you an easy one," The girl let out a nervous burst of laughter, "how long you got?"

Carmilla looked at the clock and shrugged, "I don't have anywhere to be, cupcake. Just thought you might wanna talk about it." 

The girl screwed her eyes shut and puffed out her lips, "I'm sorry for last weekend." 

Carmilla shook the girl's shoulder lightly, and her eyes opened, "hey, that's not why I asked. I asked because you ended up in my backyard two miles from home at 3am in the morning and I figured something must've happened to bring you here." 

The young woman bit her bottom lip, "yeah...ok - I guess. It was just a party. But this girl, Elsie, she's always onto me. I just wanted to blow off some steam after mid-sems. Elsie is just a bit heavy handed and doesn't take a hint that well. And I don't want to play the victim, that's not it at all, it's just, she kept bringing me beer and then she tried to kiss me. So I ran, like literally ran away from her. I guess I just got carried away - ahem - and imposed on you instead. Look I've talked to her since then, she's still trying it on for size - but only a little." 

"Supplementary question, you want me to punch her lights out?" 

The young woman laughed, "no it's okay. I can handle Elsie, I just was probably a bit vulnerable last weekend. And didn't deal with her advances very well at the time."

Carmilla's eyebrows rose to her hairline, "well you let me know cupcake, I throat punch like nobodies business. I can teach you if you'd like."

"It's okay, thank you for the offer. And thank you for asking and caring, I'm a bit embarrassed by the whole thing; kissing, fleeing, trespassing etcetera." 

"Think that's what college is for, isn't it? Maybe minus trespassing." 

"Perhaps so," the girl squiggled her shoulders uncomfortably, "so anyway, what do you do?"

Carmilla leant backwards into the arm of the chair, and swigged her beer long and hard this time. "I'm a philosophy lecturer. At this college. Hence the proximity and hence the university students in my backyard," she winked, "And you?"

"Student, obviously, journalism major, penultimate year. I like the idea of uncovering the truth." She finished with a wild gesticulation of her pointer finger. 

"This explains the daring line of questioning." 

The girl half smiled and ducked her head, "maybe. The truth is never bared without some deep inquisition. So," she drew her eyebrows together in cognition, "does this mean that you're Professor Karnstein?" 

The cocky smile fell from Carmilla's face, and she sat bolt upright, "how on...?" Four whole seconds passed. "Oh the lecturer thing - I give too much away didn't I?" A vigorous head nod was the response, "well, does that mean I lose the game?" 

"You said it wasn't a game Professor Karnstein. Besides which, this only begs more questions; you're reputation precedes you." She drained her bottle of beer and reached for another from the six pack on the table. She handed it to Carmilla, who gave a sly smile and popped the lid off using a coaster. 

"Fuck me," the girl breathed out inaudibly, or at least she hoped. "Do you even own a bottle opener?"

"Look, we all pick up strange things in college," Carmilla shrugged. 

"Do you count as strange?" Carmilla choked on the sip of beer part way down her throat. The words had come flying out of the girl's mouth and the look in her eyes turned to mortification. She fell back on the couch and covered her mouth with her non-beer holding hand. 

Carmilla, still spluttering, placed a hand on the girls knee and felt it jolt at her touch, "I've never met someone with such peculiar uses of pick up lines." 

"Yeah... I'm sorry, I mean it's usually bad - but this is next level, Shakespearian porn type wrong," the girl shook her head from side to side and groaned.

Carmilla snorted loudly, "C'mon cupcake, ask more questions. I know that brain of yours is buzzing"

"I could've sworn it was your question."

"Consider it a freebie after your oratorical fireworks." Carmilla leant back and propped herself up on one elbow. 

The young woman made a concerted effort in shrugging off her embarrassment and squaring her shoulders, "Age," the young woman said simply. 

"Twenty-eight,"'she gave a crooked toothy smile, "And you?" 

"Twenty-two, twenty-three in September though," she seemed defensive, Carmilla threw up her hands to assuage her fear, such that the girl continued, "So I've heard a lot about how good looking you are, but that you're unattainable."

"Is that a question or a statement?"

"A question, I think."

"Nice work, miss journalism major," she smirked though not unkindly. "If it's a question than yes I'm attractive," there was a cocky lilt to her voice as she tipped her head to the side and regarded the girl, "and I'm only unattainable to the 19 year old boys who wear too much axe and have insufficient electrical activity in their brains... and my students, of course." 

"So then who are you attainable to?"

Carmilla, confused, gestured at her self, mouthing "isn't it my turn?" 

The girl leant in, "no no, you started this no order thing, keep going."

"Well," Carmilla drank deeply from her bottle and finished it. "Are you asking me about my type? The young woman nodded. "Someone smart, with a good sense of humor."

"This isn't a cliche dating ad you know." 

Carmilla locked eyes with her and she felt very small under her gaze, enthralled in a way, "someone who challenges me. Someone who pushes me, mentally and ..." 

"Don't say physically," she breathed out.

"... And emotionally. I've learned a lot about being self sufficient and not needing someone. So yeah... Someone who... Yeah..." Carmilla threw a restless hand through her hair and tousled it. "The kicker is definitely annoying but cute girls who show up in my backyard. That's my type." She hid her smile as the young woman in front of her shifted awkwardly in her seat and screwed up her mouth to avoid a grinning. 

"You're mocking me."

"Am I?" 

The young woman looked up, her eyebrows quirking together for the briefest of moments as a shy quizzical smile drew across her face. She reached for the bottle in the Carmilla's hand and slipped it free, placing it on the coaster Carmilla had used as a bottle opener earlier.

Carmilla watched as the confusion playing across her features gave way to conviction, and suddenly the young woman's eyes were roaring hazel, emboldened and fixed on hers. 

And then - everything went dark. Two warm lips crashed into hers and Carmilla's eyes slammed shut; every other sense fell away, except for touch and scent. 

A ravenous hand was fisted in the fabric at the front of her shirt and another was running through her hair. 

_Holy mother of God._

Every cell was alive, every line each finger drew was a fire trail.

A hot burst of breath grazed her cheek before lips claimed hers again, the sweetness of the beer mixed with the fresh scent of honey from the girls billowing hair. Carmilla's fingers finally eased their tight grip of the couch and slipped their way up two jean covered thighs and to a pair of hips. She grasped and tugged hard, till the woman was sitting on her lap, their hips snug. The fingertips of her right hand sank into a thigh, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the girl. 

The young woman grappled tighter, until their bodies were pressed flush against each other, and their lips in ceaseless motion against one another. 

"Just one -," Carmilla pulled back to take her glasses off before they broke clean in half. 

The moments pause was all it took, before the girl sat back, covering her agape mouth with both hands. "Oh shit, oh crap, oh no. I'm no better than Elsie," faster than Carmilla could put her glasses back on, the young woman had sprung off the couch and was backing her way across the room. "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry," she bumped into the armchair, continuing to retreat towards the door, whilst chastising herself, "And after being all upset with Elsie all week, I just - ugh - I just go and kiss you? Without even asking?"

"Just hold on, crea -," Carmilla stood, trying to get a word in.

"No, no, don't - this is my bad, I'm sorry. I - I shouldn't have come. I've made an even bigger fool of myself, and violated you," a hand was on the door knob now, "a PROFESSOR, for the love of Helga Hufflepuff."

"Just wait," Carmilla's hand was extended in a plea. 

"Stop, no, you don't have to say anything, I know I acted inappropriately," she straightened her shirt, "and now your hair is all messed up, and I think you shirt is screwed. God I'm an idiot, I'm so sorry."

"Creampuff." 

But before the word was even out of her mouth, the door had been opened and closed, with the young woman now on the other side of it. 

"What the - what," Carmilla huffed out in confusion. 

She fell back on to the couch. Her right hand found the bunched up creases of her tshirt, right by the collar. She tightened and released the mangled fabric a few times and felt a heat rush through her chest again as it had when the girl had been there. On top of her. 

Her lips twitched into half a smile and she brushed her fingertips over them. 

She considered running down the street and began to wonder what some of the straight laced lecturers in her area would think. But then she began to question the reality of all of it.

Perhaps this was a figment of her imagination. What bizzare interactions they had been, she questioned whether they could have been real at all. 

She looked at the kitchen and there was a dark blue backpack on the counter, unzipped with three more bottles of beer. She touched her lips again; they were swollen and tingling.

Evidently, not a figment of the imagination at all. 

*****

With a book resting on her chest, Carmilla drifted off, as the low Sunday afternoon sun splashed across her sprawled out form on the deck chair. 

She was awoken by a series of distressed little hmpfs coming from behind the 8ft wooden fence. Bagheera hopped up and loped down the stairs. He sniffed the air at the back fence, his tail picking up speed as he recognized the scent.

"Shit," another short scuffle which culminated in a dull thud on the dirt.

"Cupcake?" 

"Uh - no ones here!" Came the uncertain voice.

"No of course not," Carmilla called back, an unbidden smile gracing her face.

"This is a lot harder sober, ya know?" 

Carmilla crossed her arms across her chest, "perhaps, and just a suggestion, Creampuff, perhaps you could come around the front?" 

Another scuffle, and soft thud. 

"But I was so spaced last time, I can't remember hoooow," she cried hopelessly.

Carmilla laughed, "cool it, sunshine, I'll send Bagheera round - he'll bring you back," she turned to Bagheera kissing atop his snout, and led him round to the side gate. She flung it open. He waited patiently for instruction, "where's your friend, Baggy? Go get her." With a wagging tail he bounded out the gate, taking a hard right along the pathway. 

Carmilla stood by the back fence and waited. 

"Holy shit!" The girl exclaimed, "you're so much bigger than I remember. Hey buddy, how's it going? Remember me? I sometimes come round your place, huh?"

Carmilla smiled as fervoured panting and tail wagging noises filtered across the fence line. 

"Follow him back, little one. C'mon Bagheera, home." 

Within twenty seconds, one overly excited puppy dog and one reluctant, embarrassed young woman reappeared. Carmilla stood calmly, hands buried deep in her pockets.

"Hello, stranger." 

The young woman shifted her weight awkwardly with a knapsack, this one green, in her right hand, "hi." Her eyebrows furrowed as she chastised herself silently that even with a whole weeks preparation, all she could sputter out was a lame, "hi."

Carmilla smiled, "So - you just left."

The smile broke the dam and every potential discussion starting point she even considered, indexed and color coded came out, all at once, "yeah so, I wanted to come around again," her eyebrows quirked, "for the last time I guess, to _actually_ apologize. I brought cupcakes this time. Less possibly poor decision influencing cupcakes?" She jangled her backpack around, this time the faint clanging of a plastic box holding several delicious muffins therein. "So yeah, less beer and more apologizing for the inappropriate and unnecessary kissing. I'm so sorry for the touching too. And you're a lecturer here, so that's really inappropriate and unnecessary, even though you're not my lecturer. Also, look at me go," she glanced at her watch, "I have arrived with at least three hours of sunlight left and I've been too ashamed and afraid to even have a sip of beer for fear I'll end up in your backyard again with my stupid less than mild mannered lips, doing the very things I feel inappropriate when unsolicited from others. And even though it's still light outside, I've even written some poor prose, if that will make it b..." 

"I never asked you to leave." 

The young woman paused, her eyebrows raised in confusion, "Hmm?" 

Carmilla smiled and shrugged, "I'm just saying I never asked you to leave, I never said anything about your lips being stupid, unsolicited or less than mild mannered. So perhaps your impassioned apology prose isn't necessary. Just if you're willing to reconsider." 

The young woman stood motionless as the computation of the words visibly turned over in her mind, "oh - ok. So you mean - ." 

"Yeah - I mean. So, you just left; left me with a screwed up hair do, bent up glasses, ruined the neckline of my tshirt and extraordinarily worked up. What's a girl to do, Creampuff?" 

The young woman's mouth fell open and her ears turned pink, "for the love of God, do not finish the thought process I just started," her eyes slipped shut and she let out a tiny whisper, "please." 

"Just saying," Carmilla smirked, "and with all of that, I'm probably still understating here. You left me feeling alive for the first time in a long time and you didn't even give me a chance to say thank you." 

"Th-thank you? So this was not how I was expecting this conversation to go." 

"Was not expecting you to show up again," Carmilla threw her hands up quickly, "but impressed that you did. Happy that you did. So thank you." 

The young woman's index fingers did a quick dance, flirting between pointing at Carmilla and herself, "can we just start over a little. I'm struggling to catch up."

"I'll help you," she thrust forward a hand, "you must be Laura. It was embroidered in your backpack, which is most endearing by the way."

"And you must be Carmilla," Laura replied grasping the proffered hand and firmly shaking it just once, but not letting go, "I asked around." 

"Hi, Laura." 

"Hi, Carmilla." 

Carmilla smiled and continued holding on, "you're real." She breathed out a small laugh of relief. 

"Not to toot my own horn, but I'm not sure anyone's imagination could make up someone as annoying as me." Laura could feel her grip start to shake. 

"I thought maybe I'd suffered from an aneurysm, or an acid trip gone wrong," Carmilla smiled at the nervous hand in hers. "Happy that's not the case." 

"So," Laura squinted through one eye and cocked her head, "are you saying - not - unsolicited?" 

Carmilla grinned, "Indeed, Laura, not unsolicited,"  
she tugged on the hand still in hers until their chests collided. The sheepish look on Laura's face vanished in an instant as her hazel eyes met Carmilla's. She could feel the expansion of Laura's chest with every breath; panicked almost, but eager. "Yes?" Carmilla asked simply as her dark eyes dipped to Laura's mouth. 

Laura unclasped the two hands joined between their touching bodies and flung it around Carmilla's neck, "heck yes," she breathed and crashed her mouth into Carmilla's. 

Carmilla sighed as her hands clasped at the base of Laura's spine, and hungry lips melded together. Laura giggled with enthusiasm as she slung her second hand over Carmilla's shoulder dropping her backpack to the ground, making a loud clatter. 

Breaking the kiss, but not their grasp on each other, Carmilla looked at the bag laying on the ground behind her, "you owe me cupcakes now." 

"Now now? You know, I was just thinking I like it better it when you refer to me as something delicious to eat, so I can be the cupcake right now," immediately, her jaw went slack and cheeks colored as the sentence left her mouth.

Carmilla let out a burst of laughter, "wow. We are seriously going to need to work on your pick up lines, creampuff."


End file.
